


Accounting for All Variables

by Project0506



Series: Soft Wars [54]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluffy, Gen, Humor, Sparring, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:48:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23782651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/pseuds/Project0506
Summary: In 'Sea in Storm', Rex and Anakin discussed calling on the Force fast enough to use it defensively in hand-to-hand combat.  Rex said he'd figure something out.This is that 'something'.  Bonus, it occupies all of Rex's current annoyances simultaneously.The Twins have some fun.
Series: Soft Wars [54]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683775
Comments: 36
Kudos: 634





	Accounting for All Variables

**Author's Note:**

> Did someone ask for more fluff? Why yes, I did. Here I go. Enjoy. Thanks I will.

“Which one of us annoyed The Captain” Echo asks gaily, “that he’s inflicting us on each other?”

Fives chuckles, but doesn’t let his attention waver. “‘One’,” he sniffs. “Better question, how many of us annoyed the Captain? I think this might still be the Domino squad thing for me.”

The General smirks. He shifts when Fives does, but only enough to keep both him and Echo in sight. He’s not letting them try to herd him, and it looks like he’s decided to risk them both on a frontal assault instead of letting them flank him.

“Guilty,” he admits. “I may have also pissed off Kix at the same time.”

Somewhere behind Fives, probably still pointedly reclining on the bleachers and very deliberately _not_ playing referee, Lt Jesse sniffs. “If you boys think I’m going to be admitting anything to you, don’t tell me what you’ve been smoking because I guarantee it’s reportable.” It’s as good as a guilty conviction, considering Lt Jesse.

Echo beams. “I have literally never done anything wrong in my life,” he chirps.

The General laughs, and Echo lunges.

It’s a fraction of a second of an opening, and it’s already closing by the time Echo makes contact. Closing, Fives notices, but not closed. He follows in Echo’s shadow, low to the mats while Echo targets that shoulder that had slipped out of guard stance.

The General shifts weight to his support leg. It doesn’t mean he’s retreating.

The General uses some strange form that seems to have a bunch of extra motions that don’t really make sense, but also has him somehow just _not_ _being there_ when you go to land a hit. His offense is a precision art that still _batters_ if you’re fool enough to let it land.

Echo and Fives have been fighting Captain Rex long enough to know better than to try to brace against a hurricane. Maybe they don’t curve _around_ strikes like the General does, but they’ve gotten good at taking a fraction of a hit to divert the rest of the momentum to the ground.

Fives takes the kick to his upper arm, sets his stance and shoves into it. Not enough to knock the General off balance, not nearly enough. The General disengages, follows up with another blinding fast kick and knocks Fives far off center.

Each of Echo’s punches miss, some only barely enough that Fives can see them ruffle the fabric of the PT shirt he’s wearing.

It’s too big on him. The extra fabric looked like a disadvantage at the beginning, but so far neither Fives nor Echo have figured how to exploit it.

Fives catches a hit to his shoulder that spins him out. Echo goes down to a Captain Rex-style throw.

“Hold,” Jesse drawls lazily.

“Holding,” Echo says.

Neither of them have landed a blow on him. But then, even if they hadn’t discussed it, they both knew ‘landing a blow’ was never the point.

(These days, rumors are starting to call them Torrent’s Twins. Some think they can even read each other’s minds.)

When they break apart, scramble to their feet, take stance, the General is between them: Echo in front, Fives behind. He can’t watch them both.

His offense is hammering and relentless, they’ve learned that the painfully direct way. But by the same measure he has absolutely no defense. And as far as they both can figure, there’s only so many places he can _not be_ simultaneously. If they keep this up long enough, that number’s bound to run down.

“Fell for that,” the General allows. Fives can’t see any part of his face past his cloud of wavy hair, but he sounds amused. His ready stance is relaxed.

Echo grins, bounces on his toes. “Come on General don’t be _that_ easy. Have some self-respect, you should have at least made us buy you a drink first!”

From the bleachers, Lt Jesse _wheezes_.

“Why did I think you were the nice one?” the General wonders. He shifts, slowly, trying to move off side. Fives follows, and Echo mirrors him, keeping the General dead center. He won’t even catch a hint of Fives in periphery, if they can help it.

“Common mistake,” Fives says, enjoys the way the General twitches a little on instinct. “It’s his baby face.”

“You have a baby face,” Echo shoots back, trying for petulant but grinning too hard to make it work. “Don’t listen to him General, _I_ was stewed on the side of the tube where all the handsome genes hung out. Fives got stuck next to the greasy spot with the ones for patchy facial hair.”

“ _Patchy_!”

“Ladies,” the General deadpans, but warily. He’s on to their game, knows their distractions for what it is. “You’re both stunning.”

Fives smirks, wets his lips, lets his voice go _deep_ and rumbling. “So it’s a yes to that drink then?” The General falters, and Echo lunges.


End file.
